Where's the Wiggle Room Buddy!?

I need to preface this by saying that I absolutely love living in Buenos Aires, and if I had to do it over, I wouldn’t change a thing. My days are just marvelous; good food, great friends, students who talk back (yes, I view that as a positive thing). All in all, my life down here is sunshine, rainbows, and purry-purry kittens (big ups to the maker of one of my favorite childhood toys).

My days generally start out flawless. I wake up, get ready for work, quickly check my email (crossing my fingers for a cancelled class or something from my sweet-ums back in the US of A), and head out for the day. It takes me exactly 7 minutes (when hustling) to walk from 4836 Nicaragua to Plaza Italia, Subte Linea D.

Seeing as I’m not a morning person, I usually put my “Spanish Music” mix on the ‘ol iPod that way I’m ignoring the creepies and brushing up on my Spanish. However, I have started to learn simple Spanish lip reading from said creepies; surprisingly, seeing someone say “buenos dias linda” is a nice pick-me-up in the wee hours of the am (and by “wee” I mean 7:15).

Before I take my first step into the subway, I wish I could say I still give myself a mental pep talk. “Ok LG, this time things will be different, this time you wont end up hot, sweaty, and pissed off...” No no… Those days have long passed and I have come to accept the fact that the subte is my own personal, living hell.

I also wish I could compare the subte to a sardine can, but that doesn’t do it enough justice. Linea D is like a middle-aged woman trying to wiggle herself into skinny jeans and a cropped top, four children and many drive-thrus later... It’s uncomfortable, it’s sticky, and it makes you want to barf.

My wonderful mornings are quickly jolted to reality the second I’m shoved onto the subway for the 28 minute ride into Microcentro. I understand that the general population, like me, is on their way to work, and for this they deem it acceptable to shove complete strangers into the closing doors of the subway. All I'm saying is watch where you’re pushing POR FAVOR!! Once on the subway I’m like a crack head, constantly checking out the people who are breathing their foul Mate breath on me. “Hey buddy, are you grabbing your phone or are you trying to cop a little feel??!! Keep your hands where I can see them!”

When I get off at “L.N. Alem,” just a few blocks from work, and breath the fresh crisp air outside, I quickly forget all the stress and hassle I’ve been through during my morning commute and am reminded of why I moved here (the meat, the men, the liquor, and the legalized marijuana-----kidding!!!!). At some point, I'll snap a picture of how crowded the subte gets, but that would require moving my arms during rush hour... Pretty sure that won't be happening anytime soon!

Welcome to living in Buenos Aires little one.

(squishing avocados by hand for whatever reason, to make some guac for Mexican-night!)